An Important Decision
by Lily the Master of Kitties
Summary: Someone wants to kill Johnny. Because really, he shouldn't have killed that girl's parents.   R&R, please.
1. Chapter 1

As silly and ridiculous children's games can sometimes seem, they can also show what the kid playing them might be doing in the future. I'm not sure if it's always like that, but I can tell it was in my case. I did use to play with dolls and pretty toy animals while being a little girl, but I also used to find myself fascinated by the games boys were playing – the ones involving toy guns and justice. I used to want a Barbie, but I also used to want a gun. A real gun.

No, I wasn't going to become a robber of some sort, or work in the police, or anything like that. I needed a gun for another thing.

I have always wanted to live in a better place, a place where people wouldn't be so dumb sometimes; a place where everyone would respect others' rights… a place where no one would ever do anything which isn't fair. I always wanted everything to be fair – if someone did anything bad to me, I did everything to pay them back. And there was that one man who did a very, _very_ bad thing to me.

So I am going to pay him back.

I have been planning this since I was nine years old – no, almost ten. I used to have dreams about him suffering and dying, and used to wake up, scared to death, not sure if I really want to do this or I'm just being stupid. But then I remembered what he has done to me, and my determination always returned.

He hasn't done anything to me in particular, but his actions surely haven't changed my life for the better. I can clearly remember that fateful day – I was sitting in my parents' car, doing nothing, being bored, waiting for them to come out of the grocery store, when I heard those screams. And they were getting louder, louder, and I was so scared I couldn't even understand what exactly the people were screaming – but I'm sure it's a good thing. And right as some guy exited the store, there was that explosion, like the ones I've seen on TV. The car was far enough from the store not to get destroyed with me inside of it, but also close enough for me to take a good look of the man who has left it – and since I was scared to death, I didn't have anything better to do. I can remember him still: he was young – about seventeen years old, I believe, though I'm not sure – and abnormally thin, black hair in a terrible mess, blood splattered on his face, on his striped shirt, and on his hands.

I think I was scarred for life.

Then, my Aunt Rose became my legal guardian. And I started sitting in her house, waiting for the police for catch that homicidal pyromaniac – or whatever it's called – who killed both my parents in that store. But they didn't find him. Actually, they have _forgotten_ they had to find him, as ridiculous as it seems. So, I decided to find him myself. Sure, it wasn't in any way easy, with my over-protective aunt who was afraid to let me out – can't blame her, though – and the utter invisibleness of this man. And, of course, I had to go to school, and… have a life. Sort of. But I have never forgotten about my… mission.

Though, after I've spent more than nine years on my search, I was actually ready to give up hope, but I fortunately didn't. Instead, I met _Devi_. I met her sometime, somewhere, we talked – she seemed quite depressed and was complaining about a painting with a doll which was evil… or something – and then, she mentioned _him_. I can't remember what she said, but I just immediately knew it was about _him_. So I started asking her about questions of all kinds and kept asking until she told me everything. His address. Books he read. Movies he watched. Music he liked. His age. His style. His _name_.

Johnny.

Johnny C.

_Johnny C._

I have found him. I have finally found him. I know where he lives. And soon, he'll be dead. He'll die the same day my parents have died.

That'll be epic.

**~…~**

**A/N:So... what do you think? And can anyone tell me how to find a beta here?**


	2. Chapter 2

As I open the door, I get this creepy feeling – as though there were some unknown creatures in this house, running around and rummaging in my wardrobe, but the moment I entered, they all hid and now can come out and kill me any moment. I shrug this off – no one is here, this is just a normal, average house, no matter who my neighbor is. I slowly walk in and shut the door, then go to the kitchen to eat something before I head out again.

I must admit, I'm a little scared. I wasn't scared before, I actually felt very brave, but now that I'm aware of the fact there's no way back, I can feel my stomach tightening into a knot, and I'm not able to eat anything. I take a deep breath to calm myself down, then look out of my kitchen window. When I've seen my neighbor's house for the first time, I was actually shocked. Sure, I know that people can ignore obvious things sometimes, but this is just too much too ignore. It doesn't even look like a house. And what happened to that thing about psycho killers living in average little houses and being average little humans?

I sit on the chair and stare at that house for a long time, trying to notice any kind of movement inside. It's silent as a grave – ha, ha – and I sigh. It's been two days and he still hasn't gone out at all. Does he still live there? What if he doesn't?

I shift in the chair to make myself more comfortable and cross my arms. I have to watch him – the whole point of moving here was to watch him. Aunt Rose was terrified when I told her I was moving – she clearly wasn't expecting that, even though she should have. I'm already an adult, no? And I have enough money to rent a room here, working in Aunt Rose's friend Mrs. Harm's antique store. I actually like it – the store itself is nice, with all those ancient things. People rarely come in and hardly buy anything, but if they do, they get something really expensive. So that's okay, I can afford a room – besides, no one else lives in this house for some reason, so it's all _mine_.

Not that I actually wanted to move out of there, though. But I had to.

It's already getting really late, and I'm about to leave when I suddenly see that house's door open. I freeze and stare at it intently as a young man walks out of it. I immediately recognize him; of course, he has changed, but not that much; still looking anorexic and – what's that word? – wacky! I frown deeply and wait for him to walk far enough not to notice me. Then, I put on my shoes and head out to follow him.

I am a stalker.

**~…~**

I'm trying my best to stay unnoticed. Freezing every second, hiding in the shadows. If in the beginning he was oblivious to my presence, now he's apparently suspecting something – he even turned around to see if someone was there a few times. I actually was about to run home, but I've decided against it – what if he'll just hide in his house again and then die? He looks like he hasn't eaten a thing in a month. And if he dies, I won't be able to watch him nor kill him.

I must admit, I'm scared – we're on some particularly creepy street, and it's already dark. I can feel my stomach tightening into a knot and my hair stand on their ends at the mere thought of what might happen if he sees me.

It's probably quite stupid of me to choose to do something like this. I…don't want to die, do I? And I am stalking someone who has blown up a huge building with people in it in broad daylight. Does he still do those things? Does he have a bomb in his backpack? And… was it really him who did this, or was it an accident? What if he's a terrorist? What am I going to do?

He turns around a corner, and I'm about to follow him when all of a sudden I hear a painfully familiar voice: "Hey, Suzie!" I jump from surprise and turn around to see my… friend Kelly approach me with a huge smile on her face. "What are you doing?" She stands in front of me, her grey eyes sparkling with causeless joy.

"I'm just walking," I grumble, taking a step back, hoping she'll be satisfied with this answer.

"No, you're not!" she says a bit more loudly she should. "You're stalking someone! Who's that? It's a _guy_, isn't it? It's a _guy_!"

A guy? Really, what's so unusual? There are about… four billion guys on Earth, no? Why can't I stalk one of them? Kelly keeps staring at me, her eyes are now as large as saucers, and she is awaiting an answer, hoping I'll say something for her to giggle about. But there's apparently nothing giggling-worthy; Kelly doesn't know that, though. I've never told her about that person I am going to kill. She probably thinks I am following someone because I like them, which is ridiculous, obviously, but not for Kelly – for her nothing is too ridiculous, actually. And she is still staring at me.

"I'm not stalking," I tell her firmly.

"You are!" she protests. "You're stalking! I know you are! Why are you lying to me?"

For a moment she looks like she's about to start crying. I'm rather used to her behavior – it still irritates me to no end, but doesn't surprise me – but I certainly don't need her weeping in the middle of a dark street when that killer can return any moment. Kelly doesn't cry, though, she frowns and shakes her head.

"I thought we were _friends_… You can't lie to me. I know you! And you know what? I'll keep an _eye_ on you!" She turns around and walks away, looking quite self-satisfied.

What was this even about?

I am about to follow my Soon-To-Be-Victim when all of a sudden, there's a rather loud shriek, and it sounds like it's coming from wherever he has gone, and I must say, I don't actually want to follow him anymore.

I need another plan.

**~…~**

I approach Johnny C.'s house – which looks even worse today for some reason – trying to ignore all the signs of the person there being insane. Let's see – the windows are boarded, the yard looks as thought he'd set a fire there multiple times – which can be true – and I won't even start talking about those nice notes he has left on his door and about the whole damn ridiculousness of this.

It doesn't even look like a house, it's… I don't know. Okay. Okay. No grass, okay. Windows boarded up, alright. Sure, whatever.

I press the doorbell.

I hear a scream.

Oh. Okay. Never mind.

Silence.

Then, footsteps. Loud footsteps. Really weird ones, not just footsteps. Clicking of …metal? _Click, click, click._ What's that?

_Creeeaaaak._

The door opens just a little bit, so I can see one of the man's black bloodshot eyes.

"Yyyes?"

"Hey," I say as calmly as I can, then gather all my strength to smile at him, although I really want to do something. Punch him, stab him, skin him and dance on his bones. But I can't. _Yet_.

"I'm your new neighbor. I live over there," I point at my house. My hand is shaking; the other is clenched in a fist. "I rent a room there. Just came to say 'hi'".

He stares at me a moment more, then slams the door closed.

Heh.

Okay. That's okay. I'll probably keep stalking him, but I'll also talk to him… maybe. I need to find out more about him, plan out my crime, make sure I won't fail and he will die on 5th November, the day he killed my parents and the others.

I have to wait just about… three months.

And then, murder him. Brutally.

That's easy.

Right?

…**~…**

**A/N: so what do you think? Does it get better?**

**Special thanks to my beta, TristaStrange02.**

**~me.**


	3. Chapter 3

The morning is so good it's ridiculous; it's not too hot or too cold, and everything is way too happy and perfect. It's kind of sad to think that actually, this morning can turn out to be my last if I'm not careful.

But, well, I'm prepared.

Walking to my Murderous Neighbor's house, I'm feeling… I can't really say what I feel; I am surely scared – but not really… He didn't seem too murderous last time I saw him, just a little bit… unfriendly, so I guess my task will be easier than I've thought. It's not _too_ hard – I just need to… get to know him, and then, in three months… The revenge will be mine!

I press the doorbell and cringe at the sound of it; such a nice doorbell you have, Mr.C… I clasp my hands behind my back, hiding a kitchen knife I brought with me just in case. No, I'm not going to kill him right now… At least I'm not planning to. Though, if he attacks me, I won't have a choice.

I hear familiar weird footsteps; then, again, the door opens, if only slightly.

"What do you want?"

"I'm afraid we weren't introduced properly," I say in a monotonous tone, trying to be as calm as possible. He doesn't seem to be attacking me, so I shouldn't poke him in the eye with my knife yet. I need everything to be just as planned. On November 5th, I will trap him somewhere, then make a long speech about how he ruined my life to make him all guilty and regretful, and then blow him up. And poking him here wouldn't be the same.

Or maybe I'll just shoot him with a gun. There will be less gore and less noise, but… I don't know, it's too hard to decide.

"My name is Suzanne. Suzie. Suze. I live in the house over there… I've already shown you."

I stand there and wait patiently for some sort of a reply. He stares at me, and we both aren't moving, and I think I can hear crickets chirping.

He opens the door a little bit more, and I can even see his face.

"My name is Johnny," he announces. "Welcome to our neighborhood."

And then, he slams the door closed. I can't believe his friendly attitude, and hospitality, and just… everything.

…**~…**

"And then, and then, she got just _angry_!"

I sigh, and try to keep myself from facepalming. I'm sitting in that nice little café; well, it would've been nice if I was alone. But, unfortunately, I'm not alone, I'm with my…friends. Yes, I mean Kelly, and I also mean another 'best friend' of mine, Anna. Anna is kind of okay sometimes – _sometimes _– but still… She is always sitting with her arms crossed and her brows furrowed, eyeing me with suspicion, always noticing if I'm too deep in thought and thinking this means I'm depressed. They are both thinking I need help, only won't admit it. Kelly just ruins everything while helping, and Anna believes it's important for her to talk with me, trying to find the source of my self-confidence problems. And I can honestly say that I _don't_ have any problems.

And the worst part of it is that I can't get rid of those two. They find me everywhere, and I can't tell them that I don't like them anymore. They used to be really nice to me when we were kids, but now… I don't know what happened, but they became _horrible_.

Anna stares at me disapprovingly, and I look down at my lap; I can't even look at her, and it's… like I'm a kid, and she's my mother… I hate this!

And I hate them, them both.

"What were you doing?" Anna questions, tilting her head to the side.

"Nuthin'," I mumble and turn away from them. I just want to go home, sit on the couch and eat something nice and sugary. But they won't let me, they just want to grab me and torture me with their helping. Why do I need to explain anything, actually? Was I doing something horrible or forbidden? Why can't they believe I was just walking, just walking and enjoying myself?

"You are lying," Anna announces.

"Yeah!" Kelly nods happily.

See? Is this normal? Do normal girls sit, staring at their friend, and talk like this? Why are they like that? What's wrong with my life? Why do I have the worst friends in the world?

"This is… It's not your business," I say. I'm expecting a loud gasp, and I won't be surprised if Kelly faints. However, a minute passes, and they're actually calm. I guess something is even more terribly wrong than usual.

"She doesn't want to tell us!" Kelly whispers dramatically, and I want to punch her. I'm trying to prevent myself from saying something sarcastic, because I don't know what it will do to her.

"But you can't hide anything from us," she continues, and Anna nods in approval. "We will find out what you're up to, sooner or later… We will! We just want to help!"

They really just want to help, and I really just want to die.

…**~…**

I'm following my Murderous Neighbor again, I don't even know why. The whole point of the stalking is to find out things about him so that I can plan everything out. There must be things about him I should know. But he isn't really doing anything unusual. He has watched a movie – a really weird one, I didn't understand a thing – and now he's going somewhere again, and I doubt it's anything interesting. Well, at least he isn't blowing things up, but who knows, maybe he is going to do something like this right now and it's better for me to leave. I'm not sure about this.

It's too cold for a summer night – I have a jacket on and I'm literally shaking. No, surely, it's only from the cold, not because I'm scared or anything of that sort. Actually, last time I've seen him, he didn't seem too murderous; strange, yes, but there are a lot of psychos in the world, and they aren't all dangerous. Maybe he doesn't do those things anymore. So I'm not scared – not _that_ scared, at least. Not as scared as I probably should be. Well… stalking this kind of people can't be too safe.

I hide behind a streetlight – not that it hides me much, but still – and watch Johnny approach a small 24/7 store, and then follow him, trying to look as calm and normal as possible.

Now, it's a great opportunity to find out what kind of food and other things he likes! I've already found out what kind of movies he watches, and I have no idea what use I can make of it, but it may become useful. Sometime. I start walking back and forth through the aisles as though I'm looking for something, keeping an eye on him in the same time. He doesn't notice me; he seems to be too absorbed in the process of choosing himself some chips or whatever.

I decide to go and wait for him outside, since watching him here is really, really boring. I grab some soda and go to the counter so the cashier won't become suspicious. It's not like he seems to care if I'm buying anything or not, but still. Then, all of a sudden, I hear Johnny speak up, his voice sounding a little disappointed:

"I don't see the cherry Fiz-Wiz."

"She has the last one," the cashier says, pointing at me. I look at my soda – right, a Fiz-Wiz. I turn my head to look at Johnny, and he looks kind of… sad. Not just sad, but really too sad, and almost on the verge of tears. Oh God, what the heck? It's just a soda! I throw the money on the counter and hurry to leave the store when I hear his voice again and can't help to stop and listen, even though I know I should leave right now.

"I see. I understand. Yet again, someone stole my happiness, leaving me with nothing. This always happens. I find pleasure in simple things, but even they are taken away from me. It's like everyone does that on purpose! There wasn't a day when I could simply enjoy myself, every time, someone has to ruin everything! WHY does this happen to me? WHY?"

I start to back away to the exit, finally deciding to leave before anything really horrible happens when he turns to me.

"And YOU! You couldn't just have left, could you? You couldn't have bought anything else? You just needed to buy something I wanted! And everyone does that, ALL THE TIME! YOU JUST – Hey, you seem familiar."

He tilts his head to the side, probably trying to remember me, and I run out of the store as fast as I can while he's thinking. Immediately I hear him yell "I'M NOT FINISHED WITH YOU YET!" and manage to run even faster, if that's possible. It's obvious he's faster than me, since I can't run fast at all, so soon enough, he catches me by my hair and yanks my head back. I stumble, trying to regain my balance, and I think he's really, really not happy.

"TAKE IT!" I yell, tossing the soda at him. "TAKE IT, I DON'T NEED IT!"

He catches it and gives me a very suspicious look; I'm struggling to free myself from his grasp, but he is exceptionally strong for someone who seems to barely weight anything. Then, he releases me, and I fall to the ground, hitting my head.

"Okay," he says.

I lay like that for some time, scared to get up. I can hear his footsteps, he's going away. Eventually, I get up, dusting myself off furiously, and I'm not sure if stalking him and, well, deciding to kill him were good ideas in the first place.

And now I bet my hair looks even worse than it usually does.

Fuck it!

**A/N: What do you think? Tell me!**

**Special thanks to my awesome beta, TristaStrange02!**

**~me.**


	4. Chapter 4

**A/N: I'm sorry.**

**I haven't updated in forever, haven't I? I just couldn't bring myself to start writing this, you know. This is… uh. I can't really explain why. Oh well, whatever. Thanks to all of you who have been reading. Now onto the chapter, I guess.**

**(BIG BIG thanks to my beta, TristaStrange02)**

**~…~**

I really don't want to go there.

I mean, I don't want to meet the Killer again. Not that I'm _scared_ – no, of course I'm not; but, see, I'm unsure of what to do when I meet him. See, I kind of want to become his _friend. _Well, to make him think that I'm his friend, that is. So that I know for sure he'll be around on November 5th. So that he'd never suspect anything. So that he won't fucking murder me. But it's hard – I mean, not running away the moment I see him, not yelling "Oh, just SHUT UP!" when he starts talking. All that, it's so _hard _– and I bet it's going to get worse…

Whatever.

I'm walking home from work, struggling not to start grinning. I know I'm going to meet him now, and this won't be a particularly enjoyable meeting, but I'm so pleased with myself, you have no idea. Because I'm so prepared now to deal with him – I even have that cherry soda he liked, to throw at him in case I'll have to calm him down or something. However, as I approach his house, I can feel my wonderful mood fade, and when I'm about to press the doorbell, I'm not happy at all, and my stomach is tightening into a knot. I gather all my strength and bravery and force myself to press it.

And all I can hear is silence. No screams, no horrid noises, nothing.

I wait patiently, with my hands clasped behind by back. But there's nothing. The house is silent. Dead silent – har har har, oh I'm so funny.

I wait, and wait, and wait, and right when I decide he's not there at all and turn around to go home, the door slams open. For a second nothing happens, and then the Killer yells "That's… that's you again!"

How did he even recognize me? He was looking at my back!

I spin around, force a little smile to appear on my face, and announce, quite cheerfully: "Yeah, that's me!"

He's staring at me, and I don't like his face, don't like it at all.

"What. Are you doing here," he says very slowly and menacingly, his left eye twitching just a little bit.

"I've come here," I start. "To apologize for what happened yesterday. For that… incident with your soda."

"Fiz-Wiz," he corrects me softly. Oh my _freaking_ God, this is so ridiculous.

I nod. "Yeah, that. Fiz-Wiz. Well, you know, since we're neighbors and all, we shouldn't, you know, dislike each other or something…" Did you notice how stupid I sound when I talk to him? He's apparently noticed, since his eye is twitching a little bit more. Oh God, _please _help me. I swear I'll be good… well, you know, after I kill this freak. "And we could as well be _friends_."

His right eye widens a little bit.

"Friends," he repeats slowly, and now I can't understand his tone at all.

"Yeah!" I nod.

"Friends," he repeats again, and his expression changes from that weird to a slightly freaked out one.

"Yeah," I nod one more time, and oh no no NO just don't get irritated Suzie stay calm… calm… CALM…

But seriously, what's so hard to understand? Wait, maybe he doesn't know anything about making friends. What if he was raised in a horrible, horrible place and no one ever loved him? That kind of explains everything, come to think about it. I feel like I'll need to sing some stupid song about friendship like they do in Disney movies to enlighten him a little. And that would be just so incredibly stupid! Why did I even think of that? What am I turning into?

"You are a fucking idiot," he announces finally.

Now, that's, that's not nice of him at all.

"I'm not," I mumble. "And I- I- oh, wait!" I dig into my bag to find the soda – oh _sorry_, the Fizz-Wizz - when all of a sudden he grabs my bag and pulls it away from me.

"What do you have in there? HUH? WHAT IS IT?" he yells, shaking the contents of my bag out and onto the ground. When he spots the soda, he abruptly stops being crazy and raises an eyebrow at me.

"SEE!" I yell a bit too loudly than necessary. "It's just a so- a Fiz-Wiz! And it's for you!"

Then he gets angry again. "Well, how do I know it's not _poisoned_?"

Poison? Oh, why haven't I thought of poison? Damn, I could poison him! It's way better than shooting him or blowing him up, and is probably less expensive – I mean, I don't have buy anything, I can just make him drink a bottle of shampoo or something and… oh… I don't know. Why did he think it was poisoned, anyway? Do people try to poison him that often?

"It's not!" I pick the can from the ground, open it, give him a death glare and take a sip of the Fiz-Wiz. And it's not that delicious, by the way, and certainly not something to go crazy about. "See? I drank it!"

And he gives me such a look, such a look, I think he's gonna kill me.

"And you think that I'm going to drink this after you did? You left your spit and _germs_ in there".

Oh shit. I didn't think of that. Now I don't have anything to calm him down. Now he is going to get mad at me for spoiling the drink and set me on fire. And I have pyrophobia, so that's not exactly something I'm looking forward to. Speaking of which, how the hell am I going to blow him up with my pyrophobia – explosions involve fire, after all – and how come I didn't think of that until now? How. Come. Though, shampoo is also an option now, so never mind.

"I- I- I can buy you a new one!" I say quickly with the most kind and sincere look I can muster. He seems to consider my offer. Well, at least it's what it looks like. I think. I hope.

"Fine," he mutters finally, spins around and proceeds to walk down the street in the direction of the 24/7 store. I stand on my spot for some time, trying to pull myself together, and then gather my things from the ground, stuff them into my bag hurriedly and follow him as fast as I can.

**~...~**

Okay, you know what, he's fucking annoying!

He walks too fast! No matter how much I struggle, I can't really walk that fast while being casual. I mean, how? How can he walk that fast and seem relaxed? I mean, he's not that much taller than me! I bet he's doing that on purpose! That bastard, he just wants to be cruel to me because I spoiled the bloody drink that wasn't even actually his!

So, well, I'm forced to walk behind him instead of walking next to him, and I can't figure out if that's a good thing or a bad thing. Oh, whatever.

It's a nice day by the way. Well, afternoon. Or evening, I don't even remember, but it's still kind of sunny, not too cold, the slightly chilly wind blows into my face and the sun warms me… And the streets are almost empty, which is a good thing, I suppose. I mean, he's probably not going to randomly kill everyone if there's almost no one around. Something like that.

All of a sudden, he stops in his tracks and I almost bump into him, though manage not to. We are now standing in front of that place with Mexican food, which isn't something I particularly enjoy eating. Besides, the place itself looks horribly dirty. I've been there once because Kelly dragged me there (she's said: "A burrito is just what you need to stop being moody!", and I don't see what burritos have to do with my mood. Or anything at all, actually.) and I didn't eat a thing since everything there was just hideous.

"We… can we go in there?" Johnny asks.

"Eh?" I reply stupidly. "I thought you wanted a Fiz-Wiz!"

"Yes, but now that I've seen this place, I want a taco," he says, and he sounds surprisingly polite. "So, it would be nice if we went there instead".

"Oh…Okay, I don't care, let's go there," I shrug. He then gives me the most terrifyingly creepy grin in the world, and now I'm most certainly not calm anymore.

He walks thorough the glass door merrily, and I follow, trying not to walk too close too him. He chooses a table in a corner – a dirty, dirty, table in a dirty, dirty corner – and I realize that I don't really want to join him. Because the chair I'm supposed to sit on isn't very nice looking. _How_ can anything get this dirty, seriously? But I don't have that much of a choice, so I take a deep breath and sit down cautiously.

Then, we sit. And wait. And nothing happens. And the waiter is nowhere in sight. And I can tell Johnny is getting a little impatient. And I don't know if he's angry, but he's not smiling anymore – actually, he's frowning, and that's not a good thing. That's a really bad thing, I believe.

"Soooooo-" I say. He looks at me and waits for me to continue. But I have nothing to say. I desperately think of how to start a conversation, but my mind is pretty blank. He's getting more impatient. "So… What… do you do… for living?"

That – that was just brilliant. Excellent. It's really, really the best way to start a nice little talk. I'm bloody amazing. So what are you gonna say, Mr. Insane Wacky Dude? Huh?

He stares at me for a long time, unblinking, which is kind of disturbing. Why am I still surprised by anything?

He then finally opens his mouth to speak, and says slowly "I… do… stuff".

"…Stuff?"

"Stuff".

"Okaay…" he isn't saying anything. Why can't he ask me the same thing? Is he that uninterested in me? But why? I'm bloody amazing!

"So… Do you have any…hobbies?" I ask. Other that being a freak and killing everyone? Huh?

Now he looks kind of upset. This situation is not going to end well. "I used to draw, but I can't anymore".

"Why?"

He gives me a death glare. This situation is going to end awfully. "No reason".

This is getting so hideously ridiculous I want to facepalm. Many, many times.

The waiter still isn't here. The whole place is empty, actually, and I start to get a really bad feeling. Does… does he have any kind of weapon with him? Oh God, what if he…

I need to get out of here, now. I'm nervous. I don't like being nervous.

"Oh but why? Drawing is good, I mean, you could earn money and get rich and- and everything, or, or you could just draw cool things and make world better and-" I hate being nervous. I ramble when I'm nervous. I ramble so horribly. And the look on his face is just so- "And why did you quit? I mean, drawing is awesome and if you have talent, you shouldn't just-"

"Do you EVER shut up?" he snaps, annoyed. "You are just so irritating you make me want to rip out your ribs, one by one, and then feed you to cockroaches – you are so horrible, and also so terribly moronic – how stupid do you have to be to want to be my friend?"

I'm way too nervous right now. I can't control my speech. I-

"You know what!" I snap. "Stop talking about me like you know me! I just want to be your friend, I buy you a soda, I bring you here and I'm moronic? I'll show you moronic! You bastard! You know what? I'm going to kill you!"

The whole time I was saying that he seemed to be preparing to attack me and then rip out my ribs or whatever, but when I mention killing him – why? Why did I do that? – he just raises an eyebrow at me.

"What did you say?"

"I'll kill you," I mumble stubbornly, sounding like a little kid and give myself a mental roundhouse kick.

He tilts his head to the side, looking quite amused. "Really? And may I ask why?"

"I'm not telling you," I say, feeling even stupider that before. "It's none of your bloody business."

And then he starts laughing.

First he just chuckles, then giggles maniacally, and then laughs so hard he falls out of his chair. And there he stays, on all fours on the _really dirty _floor, still laughing with his creepy cartoon villain laugh.

"That's- that's not fucking funny!" I say at last, but he doesn't seem to hear me. He just laughs, and laughs, and laughs, and doesn't it hurt him to laugh for so long?

"I'm leaving!" I say loudly, but he doesn't pay any attention to me. So, well, I leave. Angry, I storm out of the nasty, dirty, smelly place and walk home as fast as I can. It doesn't seem like he's chasing me, but who knows.

At home, I close all windows, check three times if the front door is locked, and can't bring myself to go to that kitchen window. Instead, I go upstairs, carrying a frying pan with me just in case, then take a shower and go to sleep, holding the pan kind of like a child would hold a teddy bear. So lovely. So sweet, I might just throw up.


End file.
